Alone
by Xeen Cyr
Summary: Andy had finally made up her mind about Callaghan but Sam has gone awol, back undercover again. When her future seems gloomy, she finds out that someone has still got her back.
1. Chapter 1

ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

_**ALONE**_

_I'm__ secretly hoping that TPTB won't impose us this charade about Andy's love life in season 2, so I decided to put an end to her relationship with Luke Callaghan right now. _

_Thanks __again for your support, love you guys!_

-o-

It had been four months, eight days, twelve hours and yet she felt she had had enough for a lifetime. Never had she been so miserable before. Even when she was a child with her mother gone and her father drowning in alcohol, even when she spent too many hours skipping high school to make out with the wrong guys, even when she worked for an entire summer at a gas station, her life had still some meaning. Now, everything that she was doing seemed random and pointless, the necessary step to get to another day still breathing. She did not feel sad or disappointed, she felt numb, like her whole life had been taken away from her.

Moving in with Luke had been a bad decision, she could see that clearly now. It felt right at the time, for the split moment when she actually agreed to do it. But the moment was gone way before she had time to think it over and now it seemed like she had just lost these five weeks of her life that she will never get back. Not to mention the eleven previous months she spent lost in the delusion that if she was putting her mind to it, she will make it work. She tried to follow Sam's advice; she tried like crazy not to over think it. She should have. There was nothing magical or exhilarating about living with the detective. Dating had been awkward at times, good most of the time, but good does not make the news. As soon as they settled in his big fancy house, he turned into this ageless man with no desire she had never met before. He began to spend endless hours working cases that were not even his, he stood her up a handful of times at a restaurant or kept her waiting at the theatre until it was too late for the last show. She had not a clue why it had turned out that way. She was like this prize he wanted for himself even though he was not really interested. She hoped that he loved her somehow, in his own way, but something was definitely off and he was not ready to talk about it. She was tired of waiting. Actually, she was tired all the time. They could have lived unhappily ever after, in this cosy absence of passion. If only she could.

She hastily threw into a suitcase a pile of whatever came in her hands first, underwear and sports sweats, a bag full of letters from her aunt Annie from Burnaby, her favourite dress, the one with the blue flowers, two pairs of sneakers and her expensive high heels shoes, the ones she bought with Traci that Saturday afternoon after she had learned that Sam Swarek was going back undercover, her sequin clutch and the content of her bathroom drawer. She threw in a few books for good measure. She would come back later with Dov or Chris or both or anyone to pick up the rest. There was nothing she needed really except to be away from Luke as soon as possible.

The whole time, he just stayed there, watching her roaming the room like a maniac, gulping glass after glass of his fancy 30 years old scotch. He would not speak to her. What was the point? They had barely acknowledged each other presence for the last fifteen days, achieving in a month what any average couple managed to achieve in a ten or twelve year span. That was pathetic. And that meant that they were actually in the house together, that is. Because most of the time, she was alone. She had had her full of the ravine view and the high tech kitchen.

Her eyes fanned the room. She swapped a photograph of her father from the console near the couch at the last minute and zipped her suitcase closed. That was it. That last hour packing summed up pretty well the extent of that was left of her Luke-warm relationship, as Trace would put it, with the 15 Division golden boy. And now she was happily walking back to the unknown. Yet, she was happy to move on. She stood there, pondering about what to say. But he put her out of her misery and simply left the room without another look before she had the chance to say anything. That was probably for the best. She rolled the suitcase to the door and strode to the taxi that was waiting in the driveway.


	2. Chapter 2

ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

_**ALONE**_

_I'm aware I left a few stories unattended lately, but I'm working on it. Sorry to keep you waiting. __Thanks again for your support, guys, you're awesome!_

-o-

Part 2

In the end, Luke had turned out to be quite the gentleman. He knew that she was short of a place to stay, so he arranged for her things to go directly to storage, so that they would not have to meet inadvertently. She accidentally ran into him at the barn once or twice right after they broke up, but it was okay. She did not hold a grudge against him, he was a decent guy, they were just not meant to be together. Since she had no business at the D' desk, it was so much easier than being stuck in a patrol car for ten straight hours with Swarek when they had been at odds after their impromptu romp months ago. Well, that was in another life, no reason to dwell into that again, she thought. She refused to indulge herself with useless regrets. Life had been good since she and Callaghan had parted their separate ways. For one thing, that made her realize that her friends were still out there, that they actually cared and never let her down, that they were the same bunch of loyal people she met at the Academy, eons ago.

At first, she figured she would spent some time at Traci's. She was in no hurry to find a new place and she desperately needed the company. If her own problems had seemed impossible to reconcile, her friend's were far worse. She was doing her best to achieve being the perfect mother. On top of that, she wanted to become the perfect girlfriend to a guy she was so utterly foreign to, that it was actually painful to watch. Her I'm-doing-this-for-Leo excuse was not only lame, it was getting really old. Traci was putting on a brave face for Leo's benefit and it was a far worse mistake that her frolicking with Luke. Dex did not deserve her, but to his defence, he had been a good father to Leo lately, while making Trace miserable. The poor girl could not help to simply melt every single time her path crossed Jerry's. The detective was in a pretty bad shape too. Not only had he lost his girlfriend but his best friend in the course of the last two months. He was uncertain that he will ever get them back at some point. The prospect of waiting for something to happen with no specific time frame had taken its toll on the already damaged detective.

Andy managed to have his back for a while, keeping him company at the Penny, trying to cheer him up but he would end drinking so much that she changed her MO. She dragged him to every restaurant in the vicinity of the precinct. At some point, he finally let go of his Traci obsession but ended up talking about Swarek. There were definitely a few things she did not want to know. She gradually gave up on him, meeting him once a week or so, and leaving Oliver in charge of boosting his shattered self-esteem. Even if she was not proud about it, she had to. The less she knew about Swarek, the better, it was a matter of self preservation. She got used to spending most of her evenings with her fellow rookies instead. That's when she finally moved in with Dov.

Chris was pretty much living with Gail now in her apartment downtown and he had eventually moved out. Ever since Dov had had trouble to make ends meet and he welcomed Andy's proposition to share his house gratefully. Cohabiting with the guy was like starring in a sitcom minus the fake laughs and recorded rounds of applause. Unaware he had inherited somehow the laid-back attitude of his progressive parents, he was open, honest, caring, witty and furiously funny. Every girl that he would talk to was the next woman of his dreams and yet, he never tried to hit on her for one minute. She was like his big sister, his confidante and his buddy all wrapped up in one, the one person he could talk to until dawn about practically anything. And that was more often than not. He was a decent human being that every parent could be proud of, and what made him so sexy was the fact that he was at the same time so candid and brilliant. For a couple of months, they spent countless hours slouched on the couch, with a pack of cold beer in the cooler and enough bags of chips to feed a brigade, watching idiotic reality shows and laughing their ass off.

After a few weeks of the Dov treatment, she felt better. He was very much in love with a petite brunette and she needed to find her own place. She flipped through the classifieds with not much luck every morning before shift, promising Dov that she will be out of his hair in record time. She began using make-up again, dolled up more and was rewarded by snarky remarks from Ollie. That was a good sign. She could tell that Shaw had been worried about her. Sam Swarek going back undercover had been unexpected and disturbing for her. She had taken the blow pretty bad and was still in recovery despite the fact that she was willing to face the world and her job with an extra layer of boldness, demonstrating more bravado than common sense. Not once had Swarek mentioned that he was nursing the prospect of impersonating a low-life drug dealer again but rumour has it that he was after Anton Hill again, only working a different angle. He never told her anything, never ever hinted anything, and then one day, she had been assigned a new partner, just like that. It had hurt a little, way too much in fact, but she was too busy fighting with Luke at the time. And it was too late to talk him out of it since he had already disappeared from the face of earth. When she was cruising with McGuire or Andrews, she often found herself looking for him in the crowd or in specific public places, post office, train station, Laundromats, to no avail. One day, she realized she had to stop. It would be terrible to blow his cover again. Eventually, it felt comfortable to fall into a new routine with a different partner. McGuire was a good cop, and a good man. He was as different as Swarek as possible, very tall and almost albinos, a father of five kids with a sixth bundle of joy on the way. He was the prototype of the by-the-book cop, but she knew she could trust him, no matter what.

After her ten hour shift, she went by the desk to find Traci. "Andy, I can't believe I made it through another day without hanging myself. This is so boring, it's driving me crazy."

"Maybe you should reconsider your options," Andy said cautiously. Traci shot a longing gaze at the bullpen and Andy spotted Barber on his way to the detective squad office. She decided against rehashing her friend's love problems and hugged her instead. "Do you have time to go to the Penny tonight?"

"Absolutely. Dex got it covered tonight. I'm in."

"Good!" Andy was already turning around and heading to the locker room when she heard Noelle calling her.

She trotted to her. Noelle was a strong mother figure and she always felt a bit shy around her. The female officer gave her a bright smile handing her a brown envelop. "Someone left this for you this morning. I'm sorry, it skipped my mind."

"Whose is it from?"

"I have no idea," Noelle shook her head, "why don't you open it and find out?" she added, striding away with her hand on her back. She was six months pregnant and her back was killing her.

Andy tossed and turned the envelope. There was something jangling inside. She shook it. Metallic.

"Andy, chop, chop, we're already two pints late," Traci cheered behind her.

She took a cab home, leaving once again Dov ambushed at the Penny prowling for his next bride to be. She tossed her bag on the floor and slumped on the couch, more depressed than she had ever been in days. She smoothed her hair with both hands, fighting unwanted tears. What was wrong with her? It was not even that time of the month and yet she was emotional all the time. She retrieved the envelope from her bag and tore it open angrily.

Two sets of keys fell on her lap. She gave a peak inside and found a handwritten note.

_McNally, __I thought that you could use a place to stay. Feel free to settle in. Be gentle with the truck, like I said, the brakes are touchy._


	3. Chapter 3

ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

_**ALONE**_

**_I'm do glad you enjoy this story, thanks to you all for the great support, reviews, alerts... and _**thanks to E.**_ for editing this for me. You're awesome ;)_**

-o-

**_Part 3_**

Andy stopped before Sam Swarek's door, looked at it and froze. Not that she was really having second thoughts. She needed to find a place, she had been looking for one these last few weeks and Sam provided her with a solution. After all, his place was just sitting there empty and would obviously be empty for many months to come. Somehow, it seemed like an invasion of his privacy, but who was she to judge and challenge his offer? It probably had been difficult enough to get the keys to her in the first place. But she had to be ready to live here, really ready. And she was not sure she could manage that without his help.

Her breathing was fast and her pulse was racing because she had run the last hundred yards. Walking from the Penny to his place had seemed like a great idea at the time. She desperately needed some action to let off some steam. Not to mention that it would technically delay the moment when she would be taking him to his word. Once she pushed through the door, the proverbial cat would be out of the bag. That meant that she had to face the consequences. Childishly, she had been thinking that as long as she could hold on to his keys, the same keys that had been jangling in her bag for almost a week, she was okay, in a safe place, so to speak. As long as the keys stayed there, she could keep lying to herself.

She had missed him and she wanted him back in her life. Maybe moving in his empty house would be the first step to achieving this goal. At least, when he was back, he would be hard to miss. She chewed on her lip, took a deep breath, bracing herself against the memories of the only time she had been there. They flashed back in her head anyway, making it impossible to do anything. The keys had helped her to realize that she was more smitten with her former TO than she cared to admit, even to herself. Until this moment, her infatuation simply dangled in the back of her mind like a comforting fetish.

_Traci Nash rushed inside the locker room, slamming the door against the wall, venting about her day at the desk. Startled, Andy yelped. Her bag fell to the floor, its content pouring out in the open._

_"Hey, Andy, you okay?" Traci rushed to her friend and crouched down to help her gather her stuff. "How you can put so many things in that bag is beyond me," she chirped, hiding her concern behind a cheerful façade. _

_Andy mumbled some excuse and haphazardly piled up her things inside the bag._

_"Someone is in a hurry," Traci continued. "Sorry I made you jump, I'm… well, you know, the usual," she shrugged. Andy got up and zipped the bag up, guilt written all over her face. She looked down, doing her best to avoid her friend's scrutiny. She tucked her hair behind her ear and managed to put on a brave face. "I'm okay… Just tired, I guess."_

_"McGuire giving you a hard time? Say the word and I'll call Morgan first thing tomorrow, I assure you he'll get off your back like a trained poodle!" She was smiling now though she caught a glimpse of something in Andy's eyes she couldn't quite place. "Wait. If it's not McGuire, there's definitely something that you're not telling me. Spill the beans Andy. Is it Luke again?"_

_"No, no, of course not. Luke has been quite nice, actually." She shook her head slightly. "I'm… I'm just tired."_

_"Yeah, you said that already. You know what? I don't buy it. You've been moody all week and now you're just acting weird. Come on. Shoot, what is it that you're not telling me? Come on, it's Dov?"_

_"No!" she cried," absolutely not. "Dov? Come on… No Trace, everything's good, I'm just…"_

_"… you're tired I get it. Dude, come on. I'm late already, and you're not going anywhere until you come clean. Look at you! You're a mess!"_

_"Thanks," Andy retorted with a smirk. "That's nothing really…"_

_"Seriously? You're gonna make me beg? I can't believe…_

_"When you barged in, I kinda thought for a moment that…that Sam was here."_

_"In the locker room? In our locker room?"_

_"Forget it," Andy shook her head again and gathered her hair into a ponytail. "I'm stupid."_

_"Andy? Have you seen Swarek recently?"_

_"No!" Her mouth quivered and she frowned._

_"Oh, oh."_

_"What now?"_

_"I know that look. What's going on Andy? Wait! You and Swarek did the nasty in the locker room?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "When?"_

_"Trace," Andy moaned, "not funny."_

_"But you totally would have," Traci beamed._

_Andy sighed and sat on the bench. She put her bag on her lap and fumbled inside. "Here," she said, holding out two sets of keys._

_"You bought a car?" Traci sat beside her and took the keys._

_"They are Sam's."_

_"Why would you have Sam's keys?"_

_Andy groaned. "That's the point exactly! I have no idea why and I just can't decide what to do."_

_"Wait a minute. Swarek gave you his keys when he left? I don't understand, you've been staying with Dov like forever."_

_"Nope. Noelle gave them to me a couple of days ago."_

_"Noelle?" Now it was Traci's turn to look puzzled. _

_"She said that some guy left them for me."_

_"Some guy, huh. I don't think so."_

_Andy jumped to her feet. "Think whatever you want Trace. If you must know, I have Sam's keys in my bag. For what it's worth, I've been carrying them along like a lucky charm. I know, I must be dumb or something. And there was a note too. Sam wants me to live at his place."_

_"Together?" Traci's eyes went wide._

_Andy's eyes went wide. "No, not together! Sam's undercover. He's lending me his apartment and his truck."_

_"The guy who left without even bothering to tell anyone, not even you, is giving you the keys to his precious truck? He likes you Andy, no doubt," she teased her. "So when are you moving in? Do you need a hand?"_

_"Oh, Trace, I wish I knew. I don't know what to do."_

_"Let me tell you, sis, when someone gives you his keys, you just take them and you do as you're told. Sam's not even around, so what's the problem?"_

_Andy shrugged. "I wish I knew."_

_"Andy," she paused, "you've been pining after Sam Swarek like forever, and since he left…" Andy shook her head, red creeping on her face. "… you broke up with Mr Perfect. The way I see it, Andy, give yourself a break and use the keys. You have my blessing." She patted her on the arm. "Now, I deserve a drink, several drinks, that is. It's on you," she said. She opened her locker. "This conversation is not over, you know?" She disrobed and walked away to the showers._

And now she was at his front door. And tonight, she simply felt stupid again because Sam was undercover. As far as she knew, there was no indication that he was coming back anytime soon. Still, staying at his place all by herself, that did not make any sense. She took a deep breath, stepped back, and glanced around whisking away her bout of paranoia. _It's just a door McNally. You unlock it, it opens_. She clasped the keys nervously and held out her hand. Why was she even freaking out? She inserted the key and turned. Nothing happened. She was overwhelmed by a tide of sheer panic. She jerked back. Was it a bad joke? Has she been played? Who would even think of doing such a thing? She glanced quickly around her again, scanning the street, squinting until it hurt. Of course, she was alone. No one was keeping watch in front of Sam's apartment building at three in the morning on a week day. She tried the key again but it refused to turn, even a little. For a split second, her mind reeled and she contemplated running away.

And now the key was stuck.

Angry tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve. Pounding on the door, she kicked, knocked, pushed and pulled and finally forced the key out of the lock. She was pathetic. For an entire week, she had been toying with a fantasy. The fantasy that even when he was undercover, Sam was looking out for her, that he was having her back, always. In the end, it was only a sick joke.

The night was chilly. The north wind was picking up. The last thing she needed was wandering in the streets facing the prospect of a massive snow storm. She sat on the stairs, leaning against the door and folded her arms on her chest, burying her face in her woollen scarf. She tried to breathe evenly. _Pull yourself together Andrea_. She would toss the keys deep inside the next garbage container, take a cab back to Dov's, and sleep on it. She was sobbing now, unable to hold her frustration in check for an extra second. She cursed under her breath, and jumped to her feet. She shoved her hands inside her coat pockets and briskly walked away. After a few strides, she stopped dead in her tracks and almost tripped over her feet. While she was having her meltdown, snow had actually begun to fall and the street was now icy and silent. She shook her head. _What the hell_. She had to give it another try. She went back to the door, inserted the key again and turned.

The door opened smoothly with a soft click and she got engulfed in a world of smell. She stepped inside, shut the door behind her, barely breathing. She closed her eyes briefly to savour the moment. Reminiscence of a very different situation assaulted her again and she leaned on the door fighting dizziness. It was hard to describe, but she definitely could feel his presence, which made it even harder to forget the night when she had been so dangerously close to letting her guard down. Today was not the day to take another flight. She walked past the foyer into the main room, reluctant to flip the lights on. The temperature was below 50°F. She had to find a way to turn on the heating. But not now. Something was far more urgent.

She stumbled in the dimmed room, bumping into a bunch of unidentified obstacles, and finally made it to the bedroom. She took off her coat, gloves and hat, tossed them on a chair along with her jeans and sweater. In her underwear, she turned to the closet, walking slowly in the dark with her arms extended before her. She picked one of his shirts from the pile and put it on. Then she sprinted to the bed, hopped inside and snuggled under the covers.


	4. Chapter 4

ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

_**ALONE**_

_I know, it's been a long time and I'm finally getting to tie the loose ends of this story. Please bear with me!_

-o-

To her surprise, Andy had no problem getting the truck started. Despite the snow, the cold and the icy wind, she turned the key and the engine roared. She was extra careful on her way to the precinct. Sam wouldn't like to have his precious truck wrecked when he had actually trusted her with it. And she couldn't afford to get the repairs done anyway, should anything ever happen. She chuckled to herself, and her hand fumbled with the radio, scanning for some music. She finally gave up and pressed the cd control. The name of the band flashed in shiny blue letters on the front panel. Rush. Cool, she thought, her mind reeling back to her ride with Sam Swarek to Sudbury. Too bad they were so awkward to each other at the time. She would act so differently now that she knew that she had fallen for him. Had she?

She frowned, her attention going back to the road. Was it love really or simply wishful thinking because she felt so alone? Was she imagining she loved him because he was out of reach, and no immediate threat? She drove for the last five minutes struggling against a violent surge of adrenaline. What if he never made it back? She pushed away that thought and concentrated on driving. It was a possibility that she couldn't dismiss though. Everybody knew the risks. They were unlikely, but yet, they were very real. Going undercover was dangerous and worse. She clenched the wheel and fought back her tears. Better go back to the current situation, she pondered, something futile, such as a plausible explanation for her driving Sam's car. And what about the truth for once?

Andy parked Sam's truck on the parking lot of the 15 Division like in a trance. It was too late to reflect on her decision to accept his offer. She would dismiss the immediate attention his truck will draw to her, that was the easy part. The hard part would be to take the truck back to his place tonight after a twelve hour shift knowing he won't be there to greet her and hold her. God, she missed him so much. Why had she been so blind and stubborn? He never made a secret of his attraction to her. But he wanted her to be happy, and happy meant being with Luke at the time. She could rehash the story as many times as she wanted, it wouldn't change a thing. She had made an honest mistake and she was paying for the consequences.

She shrugged. What the hell. She was not a rookie any more. Sam wasn't even around. Luke was just a friend, and surprisingly enough a good friend, and she was a full fledge cop. That meant that she didn't have to answer to anyone but herself, -and Best. Tears started rolling down her cheeks, and she smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. Who was she kidding, seriously? She had been a mess since Sam left. No need to beat around the bush, everyone at the 15 could see it. Grabbing her bag, she slammed the door and walked to the entrance with a spring in her step. Today was day 1 of her living at his place and it felt good. She'd have to make the best of it. And despite the cold and her initial freaking out, she felt relaxed. She felt relaxed because for the first time in months, she had slept like a baby. Of course, she was not anywhere near to admitting it was because his bed had actually been slept in before.

She was about to pass the sliding door when a voice stopped her in her tracks. "Andy, wait," Dov made a sprint to the door and grabbed her arm. "I tried to call you like a hundred times but you never picked up!" Andy winced and retrieved her cell from her back pocket. She checked the screen. 34 missed calls, 13 text messages. Okay, that was bad. "And today you show up in Swarek's truck?" he grinned. "Sweet, McNally!"

She flipped through the names. Traci, Dov, Chris, Oliver Shaw? Noelle! "Dov, what have you done?" She jabbed him in the arm.

"Nothing! I mean… Andy, I don't know, I… I kind of panicked. Everyone can see that you've been really depressed lately and…"

"You thought that I would take my own life?" Her eyes went wide. "Oh Dov, I'm so sorry. I muted my cell last night. I'm sorry I got you worried."

He nodded. He squinted and smiled.

"See, I'm fine," she insisted, walking inside. She sighed and turned around to face him. "If you must know, I was at Sam's."

"At Sam's like in Swarek's? I kinda figured that part," he winked. "But... ?"

"Well, he…" she checked the bullpen but nobody was around. She lowered her voice. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, okay? He gave me the keys to his house," she volunteered, striding to the locker room.

"Hence the truck."

"Yeah, the truck too. I figured I could as well use it," she shrugged, entering the room with Dov in her tow.

"I can see that. Everyone can see that for that matter," he chuckled. "Word was already on the street that you broke off with Callaghan because of Swarek, people are gonna talk, like seriously talk, if you know what I mean."

"So what?" She tossed her bag on the bench and took off her coat.

"So nothing," he shrugged, his eyebrows rocketing to the root of his hair. "But Andy, I'm your roommate, I'm your friend, right? Tell me… Why the big secret? It's not like I'm gonna say anything. You know me."

She chuckled. "I kind of know you, Dov. That's why I told Traci," she smiled. "I mean, I probably should have told you, I apolog…"

"Yep, you're sorry, I get it. And yet, I'm not hearing any funky details, McNally." He wiggled his eyes brows suggestively. "The truck is already a blatant admission but now that you confirm willingly that you were at Swarek's," he stated matter-of-factly, "you can as well admit to the rest."

She rolled her eyes and opened her locker.

"What's going on?" He lowered his voice and glanced around. "Is he back? Are you two… like, you know, seeing each other?"

"Who do you think you are, my father? You know what? It's the women's locker room anyway. So if you don't mind... Hey, move along Dov, I don't want to be late for parade. Not today."

"Yeah, right, probably not. But don't think for an instant that I won't get to the bottom of it!"

"That's the problem Dov, there's no bottom. Sam lets me use his house and his truck. He's still undercover."

"You mean you had the keys since he left?"

She shook her head. "I got the keys from Noelle. That's kind of a non-story."

"Why wouldn't she tell me when I called her, then?"

"Maybe she was being discreet. You do know that word, right? Oh wait, maybe you don't, because you're a blurter!"

"A blurter?"

"Yes you are, you blurt and then it's too late."

"No, I'm not," he protested. "When it's in the vault, it's in the vault." She chuckled. "We're not done McNally," he added, waggling his finger at her, "take my word for it!" he added with a grin, heading the men's locker room.


	5. Chapter 5

ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

_**ALONE**_

-o-

"Well maybe you should save your snarky remarks for your morning show," Andy hissed. Her eyes were black with anger. Traci recoiled.

"Hey, easy sis, I was only joking…" she said, stepping closer to her friend. She snaked her arm around her shoulders and gently nudged her. "That bad, hey?" she said softly.

Andy simply nodded, tears filling up in her eyes. She bit her lip, shook her head and shrugged the comforting arm off of her. "Could we please not squabble?"

"I'm sorry Andy, I didn't realise that…"

"No, please, I don't want to talk about it," she blurted in a muffled voice.

"Okay," Traci nodded. "So, why am I here? Need a shoulder or a hand?"

"Both. I mean, I don't really need your help but I figured that I could use a friend," Andy explained. She opened the bedroom door. Her hand fanned the room. "Tah dah!"

"Oh my god! When did you do this?" Traci Nash stopped in the doorway, taking in the heap of furniture stacked in the middle of the room and covered in plastic. "When did you even find time to mask tape the doors and everything?" She turned to her friend with a concerned face. "I could have helped you with moving the furniture… Andy, are you having any sleep, I mean, at all?"

Andy looked around to hide her embarrassment. "No, not that much. I mean, staying here, it's very different from what I envisioned in the first place."

"What do you mean? Funky neighbourhood?"

"Nope. Funky nothing. It's like being back to college without the funky, really. I'm alone in his house, I'm not bold enough to really make it home, I don't touch anything, I don't do anything." She turned abruptly to her friend, talking so fast that Traci frowned. "You know when I got the key, it made feel, I don't know, special. I like the thought that he was reaching out to me."

"Okay," Traci said again.

"It's been a couple of weeks now Trace, and he's not coming back, I know. All my things are in storage, I can't help but feel totally alien to this place. My bag's in the bathroom, my toothbrush's in a glass, and that's the extent of it. I don't want to intrude. I'm just stuck. I must sound like a maniac," she shrugged and her eyes finally met her friend's. "That's why…" she trailed, glancing at Traci. "That's the best I could come up with."

"Okay." She paused. "You sure about that?"

"Yep, I'm sure. It's a no-brainer, really. I took some pictures." Noting Traci's puzzled expression, "to put everything back in place properly," she added hastily.

"Cause you got to be sure, really sure," Traci insisted. "You live for five months in your old apartment, and during this entire time, you drove, what, like half a dozen nails into your walls and collecting cereal boxes sums up the extent of your decorating. I mean, really, you're up to this, like totally dedicated, seriously..." Andy crossed her arms on her chest. "Don't you think that Swarek's going to be furious?"

"Sam won't mind. Look around Trace, this colour is _so_ not like him."

"Not like him? What does it even mean?" Traci rolled her eyes and grabbed a paintbrush from the floor, holding it under Andy's nose. "What can go wrong with beige?"

"I don't know. Beige, it's not even a colour," Andy shrugged taking the scope of the room, "it's… more like an absence of colour." Now that everything had been put away under plastic sheeting, the empty room really looked even more like a hotel room. She couldn't sleep in a hotel room for several months. Not alone, that is. "Can't you see it kind of feels a little like a hotel room… really, you don't see it? I mean it's so safe and impersonal."

"Well, sleeping in Swarek's bed doesn't look that impersonal to me," Traci chuckled. "And I'm sure that he painted his bedroom beige for a reason!"

"And I'm sure he didn't. I think he didn't do anything since he bought the damn house. Look Trace, colour will bring in energy, it will excite the senses!"

"Like you're gonna need it when he comes back," Traci giggled, walking away from her friend to a safer distance. "Sorry, but Andy, really?"

"Are you here to help me or what?"

Traci sighed and dipped her brush inside the paint can, moving it around. "And you call this a colour?" She checked the tag on the can. "Bright Thunderstorm? Looks like black to me. Andy, you can't paint his bedroom black!"

"Why not?" Andy said stubbornly. "Look, it'll be fine once it's on the wall, and I'm having the baseboard in evening mist…"

"Evening mist? Oh boy, I'm so totally out of the loop. When exactly did white become evening mist?"

"You sure you're a girl," Andy piped, "cause you really sound like Dov right now. He gave me the full treatment already when he helped me with picking up the brushes and everything."

"Okay, okay, so basically, you're going to paint Swarek's bedroom in black and white… Do you plan to change the floor too? Maybe put a nice checked lino over the hardwood floor?" she teased.

-o-

Once the frames were back on the walls and the bed to its usual place, Andy sighed with delight. "That's great!" she commented, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She smeared fresh paint all over her face. "No? What do you think?"

Traci nodded from her seat, swinging her feet in appreciation. "Yep. It's not that bad. Let's put it that way. It's… different," she mused. "It has a manly feel," she added with a large grin. She raised her glass to Andy. "To Swarek's new house of ill repute!"

"Traci, that's not funny," Andy slumped on the bed, her brows furrowed. "Too much, huh?"

"Over the top, that would be the expression you're looking for. But I like it."

"You like it?" Andy took a sip of her Merlot and sighed. "I see what you meant now, I went over the top, didn't I? It's a bit… too much."

"Drastic, that's another word for you," Traci winked.

"He's definitely gonna be mad," Andy punctuated with her glass.

"When do you think he'll make it back?"

"I wish I knew. Best must know something, and probably Luke, but I'm not going to beg. Since Sam trust me with his house…"

"Don't forget his beloved truck!"

"… and his truck, I'll try to make the best of my staying here. I want this situation to be as normal as possible and stay that way. I'm not his girlfriend, we never discussed our feelings. He's just a friend."

"Yeah, right, to Sam Just a Friend Swarek!" Traci cheered. "Listen, why don't you write a diary? I hear it's tight. They say no email, no phone call, but maybe he'll find a way to read it. You could leave it lying around on your bedside table or something."

"Oh… You think he checks on his house?"

"I have no idea! But it's worth the try, huh?"


End file.
